Cumberbatch to the Rescue
by Allons-yalatardis17
Summary: A trip into town takes an unexpected twist when a mugger and Benedict Cumberbatch come into play. This story is inspired by "Day Out with Benedict Cumberbatch" by Detective in Training. It is meant to be lighthearted and funny, with absolutely no disrespect to Benedict himself.


_The last place you expected to find yourself this evening was in a dark alley being held at gunpoint. _

_You'd been walking into town to meet up with some old friends. The group had agreed on a rather upscale restaurant and you'd dressed appropriately. About three blocks into the walk however, you began to regret your choice of heels and decided to make the rest of the journey barefoot in order to avoid blisters. As you leaned against a wall removing your shoes, a hooded figure appeared and grabbed your neck forcefully before you even had a chance to scream. _

_Eyes widened in fear, you were ushered into the adjacent alley and you could feel a gun being held to your chest. Unfortunately for you, there had been no passersby to witness the account- or so you thought._

_Your attacker stated plainly that there would be no trouble so long as you handed over your purse, which was currently clutched behind your back. After a few seconds of hesitation, you agreed._

_"Okay," you stated meekly, releasing your arm as if to fulfill his request. But instead of presenting your purse, you thrust the heel of your shoe into the side of his face and he reeled backward, cursing in pain. The distraction was enough to allow you to kick the gun out of the man's hand. _

_You ran frantically towards the main street, but not fast enough. He caught you and immediately immobilized your arms. You squealed loudly, hoping someone could hear. "Let me go!" you screamed. And your struggle was soon brought to a halt by the sound of the gun being cocked by an unidentified third party._

"Let. Her. Go."

You freeze in complete and utter shock, partially because you can't believe someone actually came to your rescue, but more likely because you recognize the voice. That deep, rumbling voice that could only belong to one person in the world: Benedict Cumberbatch.

Your attacker is apparently not as much of a fan, because he releases you and backs away in terror. Benedict jokingly lunges forward with the gun and the man sprints away down the alley. You hear a low chuckling, but still haven't mustered up the strength to turn around. This must be some kind of freakish nightmare.

"Are you alright," Benedict finally asks, stepping in view and placing a concerned hand upon your shoulder._ So much for the nightmare theory- that touch was real._

"Fine. Thank you," you manage.

"Don't mention it," he insists and the shadows of the night dance along his cheekbones as he speaks. Benedict reaches down to retrieve your shoes. "I believe these are yours."

"Yeah," you admit, taking them thankfully.

"I'm Benedict by the way," and he held out his hand.

You shake it and introduce yourself.

"Well, that's certainly enough excitement for one night. My flat is just down the road if you'd like to catch your breath and file a police report."

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. It wasn't like you to trust a stranger, even if they _had_ just saved your life. But this was _Benedict Cumberbatch_ we're talking about. "Alright," you agree with a smile, and he leads the way.

Benedict makes small talk (_although with his voice I don't know if it can be called that_), all the way back to his flat, asking various questions about you and your life, and what exactly had happened back in the alley.

By the time you reach his building, you are starting to emerge from your dazed state and accept the reality of this tremendous situation.

"Fourth floor," Benedict says to the man in the lift, and out of the corner of your eyes you smile at each other.

"Wow," is all you can manage as he unlocks the door to his flat. "Nice place."

"Oh. Thank you. It's nothing much really. I keep things pretty simple seeing as I live alone. Not much of an interior decorator, me. Please, have a seat."

After phoning the police, you take a deep breath and sink into the couch, memorizing every inch of the flat so you can retrieve it from memory when you tell this story later.

"Champagne?" Benedict inquires. "I wouldn't normally be so forward, it's just- you look like you could use a drink."

"And I wouldn't normally accept such an offer- but under the circumstances, that'd be lovely."

Benedict brings you a glass and takes the seat opposite you, across the coffee table. Your phone suddenly begins to buzz- your friends, no doubt wondering where you are- and you swiftly reach down and switch the volume to silent.

"Please, don't stand on ceremony at my account. I'm sure someone's probably wondering where you are," he said.

"My friends," you explain with a nervous smile. "I guess I should let them know I'm okay."

"Certainly," he retorted, setting his glass down on the table.

As you're typing a quick text, you glance up and find Benedict staring forward with his palms together and fingertips at his chin.

Your mouth falls open slightly, in amusement. "You actually do that," you say, surprised.

"Hmm?"

"That thing, with your hands. I thought it was just a- an act," you manage, realizing your inner fangirl had finally come out.

"Well there is a bit of me in Sherlock I suppose."

You laugh. "Actually, I'm sorry, I just need to make a quick call," you say, standing up.

"Of course," Benedict says.

You wander into the next room and dial. When you hear your friend on the other end of the line, all you want to do is scream _I CAN'T MAKE IT TO DINNER BECAUSE I WAS NEARLY MUGGED AND NOW I'M HAVING A DRINK WITH BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH IN HIS LIVING ROOM_ but you decide to go with "I'm so sorry I can't make it. Everything is fine and I'll explain later. Gotta go."

When you return, Benedict is not longer sitting there. Instead you find him out on the balcony. That would explain the draft.

"Hi," you manage, unsure of what else to say to get his attention.

"Hello," he retorts. "Thought you'd be longer so I decided to get some fresh air. I love it out here."

"It's lovely," you admit.

"There's something so surreal about looking at the stars. Don't you think?"

"I completely agree," you say, joining him at the railing at looking up at the night sky. "It's beautiful because it's so unfathomable to us down here."

Benedict is staring at you intently and you aren't sure how to respond so you avoid his gaze as long as possible. When you do finally look up, he meets your eyes and caresses your arm. Your breathing stops as he takes a step closer, eliminating any distance between the two of you. His head slowly descends; his mouth mere inches from your own. You can feel your cheeks flush pink.

His lips eventually brush against yours ever-so-gently and you inhale sharply in surprise. But before you kiss, Benedict shoves you over the edge of the balcony with incredible force. You scream as you plummet to your unexpected death, and he stands on the balcony with his eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable _splat_. A satisfied smirk spreads across his face when he hears you hit the pavement.


End file.
